A mountain wind swept through, rustling the leaves and sending them scattering to the ground.
Yang Fangyu glanced at the surrounding demons.
Not a single one of them was weak.
To say nothing of the Tiger-headed Demon and the Soul Chasing Tower Lord.
It was a situation with almost no chance of survival.
Zhu Wu's face had turned green. An assembly of this strength would be enough to take on a Prefect, yet it was being used to corner just a few of them. It was a clear case of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.
But his gaze quickly hardened with vicious resolve.
He might be a coward, but he knew full well that in a situation like this, survival meant fighting with everything he had.
Yang Fangyu gritted his teeth. "Brothers, every man for himself!"
Wielding his long saber in a wild frenzy, he charged in one direction.
